Fireflies
by Hobochan
Summary: ShikaTema, oneshot, fluff; Some things are just too beautiful not to share.


"Why'd you invite me out here?"

It was a rare occasion when Temari's voice was so soft and tender, and Shikamaru relished it. Or was it actually just a lot nicer than usual, like warm water on a burn—more just relatively nice than actually and truly nice? He really did wonder sometimes, if he'd just become numb to her harsh ways. But either way, it was wonderful on the ears. Of course, anyone would keep their voice low, as a force of habit, this late at night, out in one of the many fields surrounding Konoha. This just happened to be one of his favorite spots, sitting under a tree, where he'd normally just watch the clouds. Tonight, the sky was cloudless, the moon full and bright giving the field a sort of surreal glow, and the stars twinkled brightly amidst a sea of black. They were just as nice as the clouds though. Rooted to one spot, but so merrily solitary that it wasn't so bad. Just to be able to peacefully rest where they were…

"Just wait," he said quietly as she came to sit next to him. Three years tended to do that to people who were supposed to hate each other. They became friends. And sometimes more.

But that was just hoping too much, he knew.

"Nara, if you're wasting my time…" she finally said again, after a few minutes had passed, tone still low and soft, but with that trademark stern hint.

It was a sort of tone he'd been lucky enough to hear it several times by then, mostly in their late night paper work sessions. He wondered if she used it on anyone else, and kind of liked the idea of being the only one with the honor of receiving it. Again, though, he was letting himself get lost in silly, childish fantasies.

"Just be patient, woman."

He didn't realize that he had been staring at her face the whole time, hardly visible in the low light, or that she had been staring at him as well, and the thought caused a slight flush to overtake his cheeks, although it was barely noticeable. He didn't screw up his expression, though, and hopefully she hadn't picked up on it. Perhaps he drew attention to it when he averted his gaze quickly, awkwardly, out to the field surrounding them, arm propped on one drawn-up knee, but that was a risk he was willing to take.

She looked on with him for a while, soft breathing barely audible over the chirping of the crickets, and just as she looked to be opening her mouth to say something again, there came the first few glimmers, and then some more, catching her attention, and soon, they were completely surrounded.

Fireflies everywhere, looking just as the night sky did above them, twinkling in every direction that the two of them could look. He'd seen it before, but from the look on her face, she hadn't. It was a sort of curious wonderment, but never too shocked, never too surprised.

"They're…beautiful…" she finally murmured, and he found her—surprisingly, and yet unsurprisingly—leaning into his shoulder.

And it was now or never, Shikamaru figured, so he took the risk and put his arm around her, half expecting to get smacked. It never came. Instead, she shifted closer, and he took another chance and leaned his head against hers. Still nothing.

"You know what else is beautiful?" he whispered after they were comfortable. Somehow it just didn't feel right to speak up.

"Don't say it." Of course, she always spoke up. But she didn't sound as stern as usual.

"You're beautiful, Temari."

_More than just beautiful…_

"You don't need to tell me."

_Yes I do…I've needed to tell you for a long time…_

"Then do I need to tell you I love you?"

_Of course I do_.

His demeanor didn't change at all, same low, disinterested tone, bored, tired look. Inside, though, his mind was racing with some of the most terribly cheesy thoughts that he had ever had. What had this woman done to him?

"No."

He could hear it in her voice: _because I already know_.

"Good, because I do."

"I know."

"I know you love me too."

"Shut up, Nara."

Her words were soft though, despite the words themselves, and the only next logical step was for him to reach over, turning her face towards him with the barest of touches, their lips meeting lightly somewhere in between. It was just as he had always imagined, her lips soft again his, her hand coming up to gently brush rough, calloused fingertips over his cheek, just like in all of his dreams. But dreams were silly. One couldn't just wait for something to happen, hope and pray that dreams would come true. You had to make them happen. And that was exactly what he had done tonight, so somewhere in the midst of their kiss, he found himself uttering a single word.

"_Success_."


End file.
